


Dream of You

by StarsHideYourFires



Category: Copper
Genre: Angst, Coping Mechanisms, Drug Use, Father/Daughter Feels, Friendship, Gen, Hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsHideYourFires/pseuds/StarsHideYourFires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The painkillers Doctor Freeman gives to Detective Kevin Corcoran to help him cope with his broken leg have unexpected and haunting side effects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream of You

**Author's Note:**

> I had massive father/daughter feels after the last episode, and it grew into this as my tiny idea got out of hand and twisted into this. And I apologize now for any major inaccuracies, errors, or OOC moments in this. I merely plead that I'm working from two episodes worth of character development. I'm sure I'll get the character voices down eventually.

    The pain never fully went away. Even with the morphine it remained—a dulled aching in his leg—but a warm, nice feeling wrapped itself around the pain, putting it out of his thoughts. Freeman’s opium and brandy concoction helped more, drawing his attention fully from his leg because in those moments before his mind drifted out of consciousness he had his Maggie again. His darling little Maggie…

 

*     *     *

 

    “Corcoran. Hey, Corky.”

    He could hear someone speaking as a hand settled on his shoulder, shaking him into wakefulness. “What is it?” he asked, his voice slurred.

    “Freeman told me I had to check in on you; make sure the morphine hasn’t made you sick,” Maguire said.

    “I think I’m alright,” Corcoran said as he lifted his head. Then the nausea hit him, and with it a renewed feeling of intense pain in his thigh. “No, not alright.”

    “Are you gunna be sick? Or is it just your leg?” Maguire moved in close, his face just inches from Corcoran’s as he looks him over with his one good eye. Not that he really knew what to look for anyway.

    “Francis, stop.” Maguire did, shifting back enough to give him some space. “It’s only my leg. Freeman left stuff for me. I’ll be alright, I swear.”

    “As long as you’re sure,” Maguire said, glancing around the room. “Where is it?” Corcoran pointed to a brown bottle on the table which Maguire hurried to fetch. He pulled the stopper and handed it over to his friend.

    He held the opium-laced brandy in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. Then he closed his eyes, held the bottle out for Maguire to take back, and waited for the pain to relax back into dullness.

    “Do you want me to stay?”

    “Nah, I’m just going to end up sleeping.”

    “I’ll wait around until you do.” With that Maguire pulled a chair up to the window and looked out to the street. He listened for the shift in Corcoran’s breathing, but even as he heard it he did not move.

 

*     *     *

 

    Corcoran spent the weeks waiting for his leg to heal in a stupor. The pain had lessened greatly, but the allure of his daughter’s sweet smile and phantom weight at his side kept him on the opium. Freeman only questioned him once, but he brought less of the analgesic each time he visited. So he was rather surprised on the day he gave Corcoran the go-ahead to start putting weight on his leg again that the copper had a glassy look in his eyes.

    “Maguire has been getting you extra opium, hasn’t he.” Freeman stated. “How much extra?”

    “Just enough to help me sleep through the pain,” Corcoran said, indignant and grumbling over the question.

    “And then enough to deal with the anxiety and insomnia, right?” The men stared each other down until Corcoran finally looked away, his gaze settling firmly upon his hands. “Do you have any more of it here?” Freeman asked.

    Corcoran simply pulled the small bottle from his pocket and handed it to the doctor. Freeman pocketed it himself, and then he pulled Corcoran to his feet and watched him grimace. “You’re gonna feel like hell for the next few days, but then it will get better,” Freeman said. “And don’t let Maguire try to help you by bringing you more.”

    “Alright, I won’t.” Corcoran held up his hands in a gesture of placation, then winced and leaned against the chair in which he had spent much of the past month. “How long ‘til I can walk on this without it seizing up on me?”

    “Another week at least, and you need to exercise it. Move it around and walk when you can.” Freeman looked around the small room before adding, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone for the next few days.”

    “I don’t need mothering.” Corcoran scowled and shifted his weight back onto his legs, walking stiffly from the chair to the window. “I’ve been doing just fine on my own. Everyone needs to make a living, can’t have them playing nursemaid to me when I’m finally walking again.”

    “Maguire will agree with me, so don’t fight it.” He crossed to join Corcoran at the window. “I’ve seen you hurt enough times to know you can take the pain. Why did you need it so bad?”

    “Like I said, it helped me sleep.” They stood in silence for a long moment, both looking outside instead of at one another. “I—well, I don’t know what it was exactly… I had really vivid dreams, waking dreams even…”

    “You saw things that weren’t there?”

    “Yeah, good things… It was better than feeling useless when I couldn’t go out and do my job.” The silence settled again, but this time the tension had dissolved and Corcoran made the short but slow journey back to his chair, a sheen of sweat covering his face before he managed to lower himself into his seat.

    “I’m sorry, Kevin—”

    “No, don’t. I—” And at that very moment Maguire bustled into the room, not having bothered to knock since well before Corcoran’s injury. Instead of any greeting he just made his way over to the window, leaning against it beside Freeman.

    “How’s he doing, Doc?” he asked in a conspiratorial whisper loud enough to carry around the room. Maguire shot Corcoran a wink and a smile when he turned to glare at his doctor and partner.

 

*     *     *

 

    At the end of his first whole day without any opiates, Corcoran felt like his insides were attempting to escape from their casings, his skin on fire one minute and the next shivering with cold. His clothes had already soaked through with his sweat and he felt altogether too moist as he curled in on himself in the corner.

   A gentle hand pressed against his cheek and he forced his watering eyes open. He smiled when he saw Maggie’s innocent face, a silent query in her expression that he tried to calm by placing his hand against her cheek. “Maggie,” he whispered, unsure what to say to reassure her. He had never been sick around her, more used to calming her through her own illnesses.

    “Daddy,” she said in return. She brightened then and leaned forward, placing a phantom kiss on his face.

    Then Corcoran’s stomach lurched and he turned to wretch. Fortunately he had nothing to expel. He suddenly noticed Maguire at his side, supporting him gently as he panicked. “Kevin. Kevin, look at me.”

    Corcoran turned his head, trying to get his eyes to focus. He failed; Maguire remained blurry along with the rest of the room. “Feels like I’m dyin’, Francis,” he said, followed by a fit of coughing.

    “Ya ain’t gunna die. Just need to hold on a little bit longer.” Then he gave Corcoran a cup and helped him to drink. The water was cool and metallic as it flowed over his tongue, and he felt a moment’s relief. Much too quickly the shivers set in again, before he gratefully sank out of consciousness.

 

*     *     *

 

    A week later and Freeman still had not deemed his leg healed enough to return to work, but Corcoran had gone out with Maguire anyway. He found himself mildly annoyed with Maguire’s hovering, and a bit more agitated in general, but he simply wanted to get back into his daily routine, since he had weeks to make up for now. He raised his voice to make sure everyone huddled in the dark room could hear, “If you should come across a distinctive gold locket, engraved with the letters E and C on its face, it might have pictures of a man and little girl on the inside…”


End file.
